Once upon a time, none of us knew how to write.
Much of this echoes what Kyle said in his student lecture, but to summarize, this one saying stands out: we are the luckiest generation of writers. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have known each other. We’d mostly all be married by now, many of us with kids – depending on the era. We’d be working, probably most of us in conditions we didn’t like or couldn’t handle. We truly are the luckiest. Just think. Once upon a time, we wouldn’t have been writers.
And, honestly, thinking of myself in an age where I didn’t have you guys? Well, it’s not pretty.
It’s been several days since the workshop and I’ve had the time to calm down, recoup, finish a novel, and start looking towards the future again.
And what a future it’s going to be.
I didn’t cry because the workshop was over. I cried, I jumped, I ran, I sang (and me singing is usually a bad thing) because I was so incredibly joyful that this community exists. I didn’t cry, jump, run, sing because of the workshop, but the people, the vision, the future that is stretching ahead of each and every one of us. I look at each and every OYANer and I see a future for them.
I am not the nicest of persons. If you offend my friends, I will hate you. I will despise you. I will turn away from you, outcast you, and make it very, very difficult for you to get to know me. And sometimes, that works for my ill, because I don’t get to know you. I am not the nicest of persons, and there are OYANers that I distaste. But just think. Just think about what those people can accomplish in the future. OYAN taught me to see and appreciate the future potentials and the past successes of every living soul.
Maybe you and I have our lives plotted out already.
Maybe you’re headed into college next year (yay graduates! We rock!) and we don’t really have a clue what we’re doing but the water of life is up to our neck and we’ve got four years left until we’re expected to swim. Maybe you’re just thirteen and this is your first year in the curriculum and to you, I’m this wrinkled old person who doesn’t remember what it’s like to be your age anymore. Maybe you’re somewhere in between, unsure of the future but beginning to question the past. I saw a lot of that this workshop. I see a lot of these mentalities in everyone in OYAN every day.
Once upon a time, we’d already be entrenched in our future.
Once upon a time, there would be no social mobility, no hope for us ordinary souls to change the world with a combination of twenty-six letters and some punctuation marks.
Once upon a time, we wouldn’t be the ordinary heroes, the once-and-future-king, the strong hobbits, the abandoned farmboys, the children who will rise above all problems to reach the story goal.
Once upon a time…
I’m ever so glad I’ve gotten to watch, become a part of, encourage, support, and understand this community.
Thank you for letting me in.
Thank you for being extraordinary in your ordinariness.
Thank you, OYAN.
For family. Community. Critiques. Stories. Debates. Love. For all the Once Upon A Times that I’ve managed to turn into novels.
Thank you.
~Erynn Besse
Friday, 28 June 2013
Remarks from Rachel:
I've been at the summer workshop the last two years, but I wasn't able to go this year. This really upset me, as many of my friends whom I desperately wanted to meet were going this year, but I couldn't. I continually saw people from the workshop posting things on Facebook and I begged them to video chat with me at some point, but they never got around to it. I even had a dream about being there during the workshop and woke up horribly depressed.
However, despite all that, when everyone got back and were posting all of their sad posts of wishing they were back and how awesome it was, I decided to ignore it. I decided, "Fine, I wasn't at the workshop, I can't be included in all of this, but I'm not going to mope about it. I'm going to be happy and focus on my writing and be happy with that."
Since then, I've been a whole lot happier than I've been in a while. I'm writing, I'm doing the thing that the workshop should really make you want to do, but everyone's too upset that they've left to remember to write.
So while I didn't get to be with a bunch of amazing writers that week, I did learn to buck up and just keep on writing anyway. And when my friends got back, they shared their stories with me and I laughed with them and cried with them as if I had been there myself. And I kept on writing.
So to you people who did get to go to the SW, be glad you got to go, but don't be sad you're not there anymore. Go on with your lives, even if they're hard. Push forward. And most importantly, keep writing.
~Rachel Casto
However, despite all that, when everyone got back and were posting all of their sad posts of wishing they were back and how awesome it was, I decided to ignore it. I decided, "Fine, I wasn't at the workshop, I can't be included in all of this, but I'm not going to mope about it. I'm going to be happy and focus on my writing and be happy with that."
Since then, I've been a whole lot happier than I've been in a while. I'm writing, I'm doing the thing that the workshop should really make you want to do, but everyone's too upset that they've left to remember to write.
So while I didn't get to be with a bunch of amazing writers that week, I did learn to buck up and just keep on writing anyway. And when my friends got back, they shared their stories with me and I laughed with them and cried with them as if I had been there myself. And I kept on writing.
So to you people who did get to go to the SW, be glad you got to go, but don't be sad you're not there anymore. Go on with your lives, even if they're hard. Push forward. And most importantly, keep writing.
~Rachel Casto
Joy From Jonathan:
Ok, this may sound weird.
i didn't cry about the workshop. i didn't last year either.and yet i hate goodbyes; they have far too much of a sense of finality to them. i will never say goodbye to another OYANer. it is never goodbye. it is always "see you later."
yes it hurts to leave. goodbye hurts even more. yet when you know you'll see them again, it doesn't seem quite so hard to miss people.
and while we remain parted, i would say one more thing that i elieve will likely stand for the rest of time:
we are not simply friends or acquaintances, nor are we enemies. never will i allow that to happen, for that would be a black day indeed.
we are family. i have never been with a group of people that cares as much as we do about each other. never have i been able to truly be myself except with you. and i cannot thank you enough. i love all of you amazing, wonderful, bizarre people. and i wouldn't give you up for all the riches of the world.
you are my friends. my family. and yes we may fight and argue, we may fight. we might even be at each others' throats over the silliest issues. but we will always come back to each other. and i will always love you people. you are family by choice. i think that is the best kind.
i love you, never lose sight of who we are.
~Jonathan Bell
i didn't cry about the workshop. i didn't last year either.and yet i hate goodbyes; they have far too much of a sense of finality to them. i will never say goodbye to another OYANer. it is never goodbye. it is always "see you later."
yes it hurts to leave. goodbye hurts even more. yet when you know you'll see them again, it doesn't seem quite so hard to miss people.
and while we remain parted, i would say one more thing that i elieve will likely stand for the rest of time:
we are not simply friends or acquaintances, nor are we enemies. never will i allow that to happen, for that would be a black day indeed.
we are family. i have never been with a group of people that cares as much as we do about each other. never have i been able to truly be myself except with you. and i cannot thank you enough. i love all of you amazing, wonderful, bizarre people. and i wouldn't give you up for all the riches of the world.
you are my friends. my family. and yes we may fight and argue, we may fight. we might even be at each others' throats over the silliest issues. but we will always come back to each other. and i will always love you people. you are family by choice. i think that is the best kind.
i love you, never lose sight of who we are.
~Jonathan Bell
Thursday, 27 June 2013
Boo-hoo from Bob:
I don't think we're in Kansas any more Toto. :'( There's no place like home.
~Ellipses Period/Bob/Dots
~Ellipses Period/Bob/Dots
Greetings from Gunnar:
Sitting here in the Stockton lobby with a twisted feeling in my gut. So far as the past 16 hours are concerned I haven't cried.
This is my farewell to you all, to I won't get to say goodbye to. Yet, this is not my farewell.
No indeed this is my greetings, because a jolly "hello" as everyone knows is not as sad as last goodbye.
But this is not our last goodbye, we will meet again, if not here at the SW, or in the hobbit holes which we may or may not be blessed with. If it is to be that we never see face to face on this earth, then we shall meet in heaven.
You all have blessed me so much this week, wih your love, your laughter, critiques, and prayers. Thank you OYAN SW 2013.
~Gunnar Kerschner
This is my farewell to you all, to I won't get to say goodbye to. Yet, this is not my farewell.
No indeed this is my greetings, because a jolly "hello" as everyone knows is not as sad as last goodbye.
But this is not our last goodbye, we will meet again, if not here at the SW, or in the hobbit holes which we may or may not be blessed with. If it is to be that we never see face to face on this earth, then we shall meet in heaven.
You all have blessed me so much this week, wih your love, your laughter, critiques, and prayers. Thank you OYAN SW 2013.
~Gunnar Kerschner
Scribblings from Sharpie:
As I flew back from the WS, all I could think of was open mic night where someone played part of the soundtrack from The Fellowship of the Ring. The song was stuck in my head and when I looked for it on my iPod, all I had was The Return of the King. So once the stewardess cleared use of electronics, I sought out those familiar tunes. I wanted something long and so selected a song from the credits called, "Days of the Ring."
The opening lyrics sang,
"Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you've come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? Why all of these tears upon your face. Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away. …Hope fades, Into the world of night. Through shadows falling, Out of memory and time. Don't say: 'We have come now to the end'. White shores are calling, You and I will meet again."
I didn't expect to come this year. And while I had resigned myself to and accepted that fact, I still longed for the place I had long ago termed as my "Imladris." That term might not make much sense to some of you, but it's what the Elves in Lord of the Rings call Rivendell. While travelers and those who had heard of the hidden city called it Rivendell, to those who called it home, it was known as Imladris.
I had been missing "home" something fierce. Everything about me was dry and tired. I needed a place of healing and rest. Most of you probably will find it funny, but oddly enough, I get more sleep at the workshops, than I do at home.
So for me, this was a place of rest. Home. Imladris.
And the more I think and pray and hope and dream, the more this becomes home...And no longer a 'Rivendell', but rather Imladris.
When Mark Wilson spoke this year and compared OYAN to Rivendell, a place for elves, I agreed. But now I'd like to suggest a slight change in the analogy.
For some, namely a few elves, Rivendell is Imladris; home until they pass over the sea. For others, Rivendell is the last refuge for them until they are allowed passage back to what is home for them, Valinor. And then there are the other peoples, for whom Rivendell is a retreat and refuge, but their home is set. It's Rohan or Gondor, the Shire or Moria.
So maybe you're not just an elf. Perhaps you could be counted as a hobbit or a dwarf or even a man; staying for a time, however long, and then returning home.
Maybe for others, Rivendell is merely a holding point for you until you pass "over the sea" to far better things.
But maybe you're like me, and Imladris is your home, your resting place. The final stop.
So when I go back "home", back to Tennessee each time, I don't see it as returning to Imladris. I don't have that kind of home there.
All I am is Strider, going away for a time, serving quietly and faithfully so that I might better the lives of those I left behind.
Maybe this all seems like a far stretch to you. But you have to understand what it's like to finally have an Imladris in order to know what it's like to leave.
There weren't tears on my half, no sobbing and messy goodbyes. Just plans for the return trip and a request to "make if back in one piece."
This isn't goodbye. Because how could I "come back home" if I was truly leaving it?
Imladris is a place that I will always return to.
After all, all roads lead Home.
Safe journey.
I'll see you soon.
~Janae Leeke/Sharpie
The opening lyrics sang,
"Lay down, your sweet and weary head. Night is falling, you've come to journey's end. Sleep now, and dream of the ones who came before. They are calling from across the distant shore. Why do you weep? Why all of these tears upon your face. Soon you will see, all of your fears will pass away. …Hope fades, Into the world of night. Through shadows falling, Out of memory and time. Don't say: 'We have come now to the end'. White shores are calling, You and I will meet again."
I didn't expect to come this year. And while I had resigned myself to and accepted that fact, I still longed for the place I had long ago termed as my "Imladris." That term might not make much sense to some of you, but it's what the Elves in Lord of the Rings call Rivendell. While travelers and those who had heard of the hidden city called it Rivendell, to those who called it home, it was known as Imladris.
I had been missing "home" something fierce. Everything about me was dry and tired. I needed a place of healing and rest. Most of you probably will find it funny, but oddly enough, I get more sleep at the workshops, than I do at home.
So for me, this was a place of rest. Home. Imladris.
And the more I think and pray and hope and dream, the more this becomes home...And no longer a 'Rivendell', but rather Imladris.
When Mark Wilson spoke this year and compared OYAN to Rivendell, a place for elves, I agreed. But now I'd like to suggest a slight change in the analogy.
For some, namely a few elves, Rivendell is Imladris; home until they pass over the sea. For others, Rivendell is the last refuge for them until they are allowed passage back to what is home for them, Valinor. And then there are the other peoples, for whom Rivendell is a retreat and refuge, but their home is set. It's Rohan or Gondor, the Shire or Moria.
So maybe you're not just an elf. Perhaps you could be counted as a hobbit or a dwarf or even a man; staying for a time, however long, and then returning home.
Maybe for others, Rivendell is merely a holding point for you until you pass "over the sea" to far better things.
But maybe you're like me, and Imladris is your home, your resting place. The final stop.
So when I go back "home", back to Tennessee each time, I don't see it as returning to Imladris. I don't have that kind of home there.
All I am is Strider, going away for a time, serving quietly and faithfully so that I might better the lives of those I left behind.
Maybe this all seems like a far stretch to you. But you have to understand what it's like to finally have an Imladris in order to know what it's like to leave.
There weren't tears on my half, no sobbing and messy goodbyes. Just plans for the return trip and a request to "make if back in one piece."
This isn't goodbye. Because how could I "come back home" if I was truly leaving it?
Imladris is a place that I will always return to.
After all, all roads lead Home.
Safe journey.
I'll see you soon.
~Janae Leeke/Sharpie
Highlights from Hailey:
Heading home from SW. You guys are awesome, both those of you I've met and those of you I just stalked. (That was a joke. ;P)
Sorry for not talking much, but then I'm not much of a talker.
So. Anyway. Thanks for just being your incredible, hilarious, and wonderful selves. (Also, everyone in my critique group was amazing... for the record, you guys are the best.)
~Hailey Hatter
Sorry for not talking much, but then I'm not much of a talker.
So. Anyway. Thanks for just being your incredible, hilarious, and wonderful selves. (Also, everyone in my critique group was amazing... for the record, you guys are the best.)
~Hailey Hatter
A Note from Anna:
This week has been amazing, all because of you guys. Seriously, Rivendell without elves wouldn't be Rivendell. Wouldn't be there at all. But we all know that we don't get to stay in Rivendell. Some of us have been, or will go to Mordor even, but what we've learned and the friendships we've made in Rivendell will stay with us forever, even though we've gone our separate ways.
~Anna Ralls
~Anna Ralls
Choking Up from Chloe:
I looked at my brother yesterday and said, "Tomorrow is the last day of the summer workshop." We gazed at each other...and started crying. And we aren't even at the workshop.
~Chloe Scully
~Chloe Scully
Letter from Lydia:
People are doing all these Post-Workshop posts wherein they make people cry, which I generally try not to do.
So I'll just say this:
Thank you for making me feel welcome, like a prodigal son coming back after a long time gone.
Thank you for making me feel at home, and for reminding me who I am.
Thank you for being what a community of Christians ought to be, and thank you for inspiring me to keep trying.
Over and out!
--Amzi/Lydia DeWolf
So I'll just say this:
Thank you for making me feel welcome, like a prodigal son coming back after a long time gone.
Thank you for making me feel at home, and for reminding me who I am.
Thank you for being what a community of Christians ought to be, and thank you for inspiring me to keep trying.
Over and out!
--Amzi/Lydia DeWolf
Reading from Rebekah:
Sorry if I miss/missed saying bye to anyone. I just didn't want to do all that this year. if you know what I mean.
we'll pick up where we left off soon enough :) love you all.
~Rebekah Swank/Sandy
we'll pick up where we left off soon enough :) love you all.
~Rebekah Swank/Sandy
Cryptic from Kevin:
Hey you all SW folks.
Thanks for the great times! I am sorry I never said goodbye. But I quit saying goodbye a few years ago.
You all were given great gifts, great talent. Plus your awesome.
~Kevin Barkman
Thanks for the great times! I am sorry I never said goodbye. But I quit saying goodbye a few years ago.
You all were given great gifts, great talent. Plus your awesome.
~Kevin Barkman
Applause from Anderson:
I know it's a bit late, but I'd like to give a shout-out to Mb Grasha for being wonderful and hosting the G+ hangout so those of us that couldn't make the workshop could experience open mic night. I'm pretty sure I kept my whole family awake between my clapping for different acts and belting "Do You Hear the People Sing?" at the top of my lungs.
Because for a little while, I heard many people sing--some from their mouths, some from their hearts--and I experienced the community that is OYAN. Oftentimes I forget that I've never actually met most of you. You're all just so wonderful.
So, yeah. Thanks Mb. ^.^
~Anderson Underwood
Because for a little while, I heard many people sing--some from their mouths, some from their hearts--and I experienced the community that is OYAN. Oftentimes I forget that I've never actually met most of you. You're all just so wonderful.
So, yeah. Thanks Mb. ^.^
~Anderson Underwood
The Break from Becka:
My mind is blown. Like, I don't know what I want to do with my life now.
I don't know what I want to say. If I were asked to make a speech on how I feel Post-Workshop, which no one wants to hear, honestly, my speech would be.
Steak.
~Becka MacEnchroe
I don't know what I want to say. If I were asked to make a speech on how I feel Post-Workshop, which no one wants to hear, honestly, my speech would be.
Steak.
~Becka MacEnchroe
Lines from Linnea:
This took me a very long time to put together so I hope you all appreciate my words. ♥
Not. After a long day and a cold shower I decided to come and talk about the one thing in regards to Workshop that I figured I could accurately say. (And also to procrastinate chores.)
If there's one thing I got from this SW (don't get me wrong, I got a lot of things out of it, believe me) It would be a sense of closure and gratitude.
I know who I can count on now. I know what it feels like to hug my best friend, I know how to storyboard, I know that people like Jill Williamson exist, I know lots of things that the first workshop didn't quite give me.
But then, I didn't need to know those things last year. Last year was different in too many ways to count -- my novel wasn't my priority, I was new, I didn't have a friend circle. This year was mostly the opposite, and it showed me so much, and for that, we are eternally grateful. (My references have references.)
I just feel thankful. I'm devastated that I can no longer run up and hug my best friends, I am heartbroken that I can't watch them exist. But I'm so thankful, thankful that I figured out who's there, figured out what I can do. I got the sense of closure that this season of my life needed, and that right there is spectacular.
So thanks, I think is what I'm trying to say. Thanks for existing.
~Linnea Hagler
Not. After a long day and a cold shower I decided to come and talk about the one thing in regards to Workshop that I figured I could accurately say. (And also to procrastinate chores.)
If there's one thing I got from this SW (don't get me wrong, I got a lot of things out of it, believe me) It would be a sense of closure and gratitude.
I know who I can count on now. I know what it feels like to hug my best friend, I know how to storyboard, I know that people like Jill Williamson exist, I know lots of things that the first workshop didn't quite give me.
But then, I didn't need to know those things last year. Last year was different in too many ways to count -- my novel wasn't my priority, I was new, I didn't have a friend circle. This year was mostly the opposite, and it showed me so much, and for that, we are eternally grateful. (My references have references.)
I just feel thankful. I'm devastated that I can no longer run up and hug my best friends, I am heartbroken that I can't watch them exist. But I'm so thankful, thankful that I figured out who's there, figured out what I can do. I got the sense of closure that this season of my life needed, and that right there is spectacular.
So thanks, I think is what I'm trying to say. Thanks for existing.
~Linnea Hagler
From the Hands of Hillary - Part 3
I think I've finally figure out how to think about it...we're still all here. It's still home. We're still...together.
Home is just bigger now. Spread farther and wider. And we'll pull together again next year (and hopefully occasionally in between now and then), but until then, we just have to stretch a little farther to hold it all together.
It still hurts to not be able to hug and cry on each other's shoulders and worship together, but I keep just trying to focus on what a special thing OYAN is and being thankful for the time I did have.
We're going to be alright.
Separate in body, but always together in Christ and, of course, the internet.
Thank God for WiFi."
I miss y'all so much. But that's alright. Because being together is beyond wonderful, but in the end -we're- home. All of us. Like a puzzle and everyone has a piece to bring.
I won't be around again until Algebra II and other schools are finished.
See you all on the other side. ♥
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
Home is just bigger now. Spread farther and wider. And we'll pull together again next year (and hopefully occasionally in between now and then), but until then, we just have to stretch a little farther to hold it all together.
It still hurts to not be able to hug and cry on each other's shoulders and worship together, but I keep just trying to focus on what a special thing OYAN is and being thankful for the time I did have.
We're going to be alright.
Separate in body, but always together in Christ and, of course, the internet.
Thank God for WiFi."
I miss y'all so much. But that's alright. Because being together is beyond wonderful, but in the end -we're- home. All of us. Like a puzzle and everyone has a piece to bring.
I won't be around again until Algebra II and other schools are finished.
See you all on the other side. ♥
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
From the Hands of Hillary: Part 2
More workshop feels.
First of all, Mr. S had signed my notebook. Today I was sitting with it on my lap...I get up after a couple hours and Mr. S's (and Mrs. S's too actually) signature was imprinted on my leg.
Well. This is awkward.
In other new, Come Thou Fount just keeps running through my head over and over, mixed with Lovebug (Keely) and a variety of Disney songs. And it hurts.
I already miss that time of worship so much.
I have a big scrape on my foot from kneeling for so long on the concrete outside the Bell center.
I miss you guys. I miss you so much. I'm sorry to keep dumping feels.
But this is my last chance, at least for a while, to do it.
I'm so sad. Love y'all so much. I feel like I have this massive ache inside me that's way too big and way too small all at once.
I just. I want to be in an evening session right now, curled up next to Jacki, cracking hushed jokes and waiting restlessly to get outside and dance around under the stars.
But instead I'm at home. Hugging a pillow. Because pillows don't ask questions when you cry on them.
-Hillary Mitchell
First of all, Mr. S had signed my notebook. Today I was sitting with it on my lap...I get up after a couple hours and Mr. S's (and Mrs. S's too actually) signature was imprinted on my leg.
Well. This is awkward.
In other new, Come Thou Fount just keeps running through my head over and over, mixed with Lovebug (Keely) and a variety of Disney songs. And it hurts.
I already miss that time of worship so much.
I have a big scrape on my foot from kneeling for so long on the concrete outside the Bell center.
I miss you guys. I miss you so much. I'm sorry to keep dumping feels.
But this is my last chance, at least for a while, to do it.
I'm so sad. Love y'all so much. I feel like I have this massive ache inside me that's way too big and way too small all at once.
I just. I want to be in an evening session right now, curled up next to Jacki, cracking hushed jokes and waiting restlessly to get outside and dance around under the stars.
But instead I'm at home. Hugging a pillow. Because pillows don't ask questions when you cry on them.
-Hillary Mitchell
From the Hands of Hillary - Part 1
I don't know how to explain it. Summer Workshop was wonderful and terrible all at once.
It was wonderful because I got to meet (almost) all my bestest ever friends. [Samantha, Linnea, Marissa, Jessica, Jessie, Kate, Josh, Rebekah, Erynn, Bailey] It was wonderful because I made new friends. It was wonderful because I made new friends/further explored formerly shallow friendships [Becka and Benjamin, Abbie, Jonny, Jacki, Richard, Reuben, Gunnar, Jake and Beth, etc.](Most of whom aren't on Facebook BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBBBBB)(Just kidding.)(Sort of.) It was wonderful because of critique groups and prayer meetings and being with other people of my own age who love Jesus as much as I do. It was wonderful because Amazing Grace sung by a large group of homeschoolers sounds really pretty when it echoes off the stars. It was wonderful because I actually managed to say a few vaguely witty things and got to hear people laugh.
It was terrible because I put up a lot of walls before I left home. Walls that I was determined to keep up so that people would adore me.
"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox', and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."
It was terrible because all of that came crashing down when I couldn't keep it up long enough. When I got so stressed that people wouldn't or didn't like me that makeup had to be reapplied multiple times to cover tears.
It was terrible because I let myself be more vulnerable than I have been in ages. It was terrible because it -hurt- to do that.
And it was wonderful because that brought more peace than I've known in a long time.
It was wonderful because it was terrible.
Thank you all for making me be so very confusing and confused.
Whee. Brain = way dead.
I love you all like...a lot. A lot a lot. Okay?Okay.
Yay.
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
It was wonderful because I got to meet (almost) all my bestest ever friends. [Samantha, Linnea, Marissa, Jessica, Jessie, Kate, Josh, Rebekah, Erynn, Bailey] It was wonderful because I made new friends. It was wonderful because I made new friends/further explored formerly shallow friendships [Becka and Benjamin, Abbie, Jonny, Jacki, Richard, Reuben, Gunnar, Jake and Beth, etc.](Most of whom aren't on Facebook BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBBBBB)(Just kidding.)(Sort of.) It was wonderful because of critique groups and prayer meetings and being with other people of my own age who love Jesus as much as I do. It was wonderful because Amazing Grace sung by a large group of homeschoolers sounds really pretty when it echoes off the stars. It was wonderful because I actually managed to say a few vaguely witty things and got to hear people laugh.
It was terrible because I put up a lot of walls before I left home. Walls that I was determined to keep up so that people would adore me.
"I think I have this thing where everybody has to think I'm the greatest, the quote unquote 'Fantastic Mr. Fox', and if they aren't completely knocked out and dazzled and slightly intimidated by me, I don't feel good about myself."
It was terrible because all of that came crashing down when I couldn't keep it up long enough. When I got so stressed that people wouldn't or didn't like me that makeup had to be reapplied multiple times to cover tears.
It was terrible because I let myself be more vulnerable than I have been in ages. It was terrible because it -hurt- to do that.
And it was wonderful because that brought more peace than I've known in a long time.
It was wonderful because it was terrible.
Thank you all for making me be so very confusing and confused.
Whee. Brain = way dead.
I love you all like...a lot. A lot a lot. Okay?Okay.
Yay.
~Hillary Mitchell/Enna Byrd
Felicitations by Felicia:
Wow. You guys. You all are amazing. Seriously. You guys made this workshop experience unforgettable.
Even the small things are cherished: Watching Mr.S get glitter dumped on his head, Mrs.S being herself, All of the people who played music, Open Mic night, The Unbreakable Chain (seriously, say it with a Russian accent), The Critique group sessions *hugs entire critique group*, the food fights (I do not repent of this evil waste of food. >:D), cheering when someone took a drink on stage, stealing a quarter and a penny out of the treasure chest, acting in a skit, hanging out with all the awesome people, and plotting to steal a sock monkey from some lucky soul.
I cried when I left this year. Oyan is my home. I miss you guys. Really bad.
*buries face in oyan t-shirt* I will never wash this. It smells like Kansas.
~Felicia Juliano
Even the small things are cherished: Watching Mr.S get glitter dumped on his head, Mrs.S being herself, All of the people who played music, Open Mic night, The Unbreakable Chain (seriously, say it with a Russian accent), The Critique group sessions *hugs entire critique group*, the food fights (I do not repent of this evil waste of food. >:D), cheering when someone took a drink on stage, stealing a quarter and a penny out of the treasure chest, acting in a skit, hanging out with all the awesome people, and plotting to steal a sock monkey from some lucky soul.
I cried when I left this year. Oyan is my home. I miss you guys. Really bad.
*buries face in oyan t-shirt* I will never wash this. It smells like Kansas.
~Felicia Juliano
Magic from Miggo:
Dear OYAN:
Feel free to read this whenever you get a chance. I wrote it this morning after talking to some of your lovely faces yesterday and I just really wanted to give you all something to chew on.
Some days you'll feel an ache welling up beneath your skin and you feel this knot forming in your chest. Some nights the pain simply won't go away and you think to yourself that whoever coined that moniker, "night is always darkest before the dawn," had to be lying because the night is always darkest much, much earlier and sometimes the dawn is shrouded in nothing but clouds that hang low and heavy over the face of the sun. Sometimes, for no distinguishable reason, old hurts begin to hurt again and you can't explain the feeling. You can only accept the pain and keep on keeping on.
The worst part isn't the fact that you hurt, though. It's the fact that for so long, you've done it alone. And, yeah, it's begun to suck a little.
Then you came here, to home. You might have been without one so long that you don't even remember what home feels like, not as a physical place filled with real people, however. You've had snatches of this feeling before, in the yellow pages of your favorite book, in the draft coming up from a half empty cup of tea, in friends you used to spend every day with. But the books had endings, the tea ran out, and the friends always said goodbye, sometimes involuntarily.
It's no wonder you can't picture home.
What is home? It's a place, yes, but the place itself is not what makes a home. It's what you associate with that place. It could be the smell of your mother's pecan pies or the familiar scent of your old man's cologne. For some, it's the smell of a couple hundred sweaty and stinky kids dressed as ninjas and statues crammed into the same room together. Because these aren't just a random group of kids you met over the internet that you happened to interact with for shady purposes. Somehow, and you can't even pinpoint or remember a single instant when, this quirky little group became your family. And home is where you and your strange, little family cook up the memories.
OYAN is a special group in that it's attracted all sorts of people to the same place because of one very minuscule similarity: we all needed or wanted to take a writing curriculum. Often times, we forget that. Oh, right. OYAN, it's "just" this amazing curriculum written by a guy with cool facial hair. He sometimes hosts webinars with his wife who dresses up as a pirate and then there's this forum where you can post your chapters as you write them or argue about cheese. Oh, and the best part is that it shows you how to write a novel in a year!
Take a break and think about that a moment. Seriously, take a break and really think. Writing a novel in a year? So many men and women three times your age have decided to just get up and write a novel. What were you thinking? But you didn't just dream about to happen in another ten years. You actually did it. Maybe you had to drag your feet a bit, or your "mom made you do it," but you still made or are making it happen.
That, in of itself, is a beautiful thing.
But for some of us, OYAN has done the strangest thing and become a part of our lives in a way that your high school Algebra text book never could.
Now despite our one vague similarity, OYAN has a lot of other features that tie us together. Picture for a moment our understanding of the average OYANer: home-schooled, wearing hand me down pants or patchwork skirts, likely a Christian, and perhaps a little awkward socially.
Of course we also have the misfits. The ones who wear, God forbid, goth style clothing, have more than two piercings, don't like Christian books, and most certainly love metal over CCM.
And of course there are the other misfits and the old farts, but the old farts don't count.
I know despite our close relationships built through and in OYAN, that we haven't exactly always been the model or perfect American family (apologies to the Brit, Taiwanese, Canageese, Zealanders, etc., etc.). It's true, we haven't always been loving. We've excluded people, hurt people (sometimes intentionally), and have downright cruel to each other. And no, I'm not just referring to the random spats that we then further spat about whether they are flame wars or not.
That said, I realize that when I say home and OYAN in the same sentence, you might feel a little bitter. Maybe you're not the OYANer who found home here. Maybe instead it was a battleground. You might be sitting in a room watching everyone having the time of their lives and, damn it all, you're hurting and no one cares.
But we do.
Sometimes we're never going to agree about language in stories (why can't I use English?) and certain relationships fall apart and certain questions will always be asked (1st person???) and there's nothing you can do to change that. That's okay. We never were meant to be a perfect family. In fact, beneath the glomps and overuse of smileys, we're pretty broken. But that's what makes you guys beautiful. We aren't all here because we've got it all together. We're here because we don't. But ordinary, broken pieces of glass make an extraordinary mosaic. Even the weakest strands threaded together will make a rope not easily severed.
You entered OYAN like lambs, some of you lost, some you maybe a little more innocent, some you dragging a broken foot, some of you betrayed by the wolves, some of you becoming the wolves. But, you are lambs with the faces of lions. You have bitten back, learned to trust again, healed in your bones, opened your heart, found your way back home.
Oh, you're not quite there yet. We know. It takes a long time for the pain to fade, and sometimes the scars never do. But don't feel like you have to go it alone because you don't. We've proven that.
Whether it's in writing your novel down to the last seconds before the deadline (you know who you are), staying up until three in the morning to comfort a friend, or simply being there for your friend to hide the tears in while the rest of the world keeps spinning around. You do not have to do this alone. Because lions are known for their bravery, but lambs are never without their herd or their Shepard.
So enjoy your time with one another, cherish each other. Do not dread the times to come, because even though friends leave, family has a weird way of sitting in the heart. Reconnect with people you've drifted from, treasure those faces who have done so much even despite having never met you face to face before, reach out to someone new, talk to somehow who looks intimidating. None of them bite. Most of all, love each other.
I believe the theme of this year is Ordinary Heroes? You guys have been talking about some of the greatest literary examples: Frodo, Luke Skywalker, Scrooge, and a Garcia, I believe. They were all ordinary people with damaged pasts who had strange little quirks; in other words, a lot more similar to you than you realize. Frodo was an orphan, Luke had the dark emperor for a dad, Scrooge lost his love to money, Garcia had to face the giant of WW2.
I don't know if you have or will be talking about this particular character, but let me just say he's probably the biggest one. If you want ordinary, he was the epitome of ordinary. He did nothing but woodwork for thirty years and grew up in what was at the time one of the smallest, overlooked, unappreciated towns. He decides to shake the world and his reward at the end of it all is death. But if you look at his two greatest commandments, they don't say be great, or to be well versed, or to conquer the world. They simply command us to love.
For if we have any sort of gift or greatness or power, but not love, then what are we? We're just an ordinary teenage writing group full of broken people with our own strange little quirks.
And maybe that's just enough to build something on. Maybe that's just enough to shake a dark and lonely world. Hello there, world. Hear OYAN roar.
Yours very affectionately,
Miguel Flores
Feel free to read this whenever you get a chance. I wrote it this morning after talking to some of your lovely faces yesterday and I just really wanted to give you all something to chew on.
Some days you'll feel an ache welling up beneath your skin and you feel this knot forming in your chest. Some nights the pain simply won't go away and you think to yourself that whoever coined that moniker, "night is always darkest before the dawn," had to be lying because the night is always darkest much, much earlier and sometimes the dawn is shrouded in nothing but clouds that hang low and heavy over the face of the sun. Sometimes, for no distinguishable reason, old hurts begin to hurt again and you can't explain the feeling. You can only accept the pain and keep on keeping on.
The worst part isn't the fact that you hurt, though. It's the fact that for so long, you've done it alone. And, yeah, it's begun to suck a little.
Then you came here, to home. You might have been without one so long that you don't even remember what home feels like, not as a physical place filled with real people, however. You've had snatches of this feeling before, in the yellow pages of your favorite book, in the draft coming up from a half empty cup of tea, in friends you used to spend every day with. But the books had endings, the tea ran out, and the friends always said goodbye, sometimes involuntarily.
It's no wonder you can't picture home.
What is home? It's a place, yes, but the place itself is not what makes a home. It's what you associate with that place. It could be the smell of your mother's pecan pies or the familiar scent of your old man's cologne. For some, it's the smell of a couple hundred sweaty and stinky kids dressed as ninjas and statues crammed into the same room together. Because these aren't just a random group of kids you met over the internet that you happened to interact with for shady purposes. Somehow, and you can't even pinpoint or remember a single instant when, this quirky little group became your family. And home is where you and your strange, little family cook up the memories.
OYAN is a special group in that it's attracted all sorts of people to the same place because of one very minuscule similarity: we all needed or wanted to take a writing curriculum. Often times, we forget that. Oh, right. OYAN, it's "just" this amazing curriculum written by a guy with cool facial hair. He sometimes hosts webinars with his wife who dresses up as a pirate and then there's this forum where you can post your chapters as you write them or argue about cheese. Oh, and the best part is that it shows you how to write a novel in a year!
Take a break and think about that a moment. Seriously, take a break and really think. Writing a novel in a year? So many men and women three times your age have decided to just get up and write a novel. What were you thinking? But you didn't just dream about to happen in another ten years. You actually did it. Maybe you had to drag your feet a bit, or your "mom made you do it," but you still made or are making it happen.
That, in of itself, is a beautiful thing.
But for some of us, OYAN has done the strangest thing and become a part of our lives in a way that your high school Algebra text book never could.
Now despite our one vague similarity, OYAN has a lot of other features that tie us together. Picture for a moment our understanding of the average OYANer: home-schooled, wearing hand me down pants or patchwork skirts, likely a Christian, and perhaps a little awkward socially.
Of course we also have the misfits. The ones who wear, God forbid, goth style clothing, have more than two piercings, don't like Christian books, and most certainly love metal over CCM.
And of course there are the other misfits and the old farts, but the old farts don't count.
I know despite our close relationships built through and in OYAN, that we haven't exactly always been the model or perfect American family (apologies to the Brit, Taiwanese, Canageese, Zealanders, etc., etc.). It's true, we haven't always been loving. We've excluded people, hurt people (sometimes intentionally), and have downright cruel to each other. And no, I'm not just referring to the random spats that we then further spat about whether they are flame wars or not.
That said, I realize that when I say home and OYAN in the same sentence, you might feel a little bitter. Maybe you're not the OYANer who found home here. Maybe instead it was a battleground. You might be sitting in a room watching everyone having the time of their lives and, damn it all, you're hurting and no one cares.
But we do.
Sometimes we're never going to agree about language in stories (why can't I use English?) and certain relationships fall apart and certain questions will always be asked (1st person???) and there's nothing you can do to change that. That's okay. We never were meant to be a perfect family. In fact, beneath the glomps and overuse of smileys, we're pretty broken. But that's what makes you guys beautiful. We aren't all here because we've got it all together. We're here because we don't. But ordinary, broken pieces of glass make an extraordinary mosaic. Even the weakest strands threaded together will make a rope not easily severed.
You entered OYAN like lambs, some of you lost, some you maybe a little more innocent, some you dragging a broken foot, some of you betrayed by the wolves, some of you becoming the wolves. But, you are lambs with the faces of lions. You have bitten back, learned to trust again, healed in your bones, opened your heart, found your way back home.
Oh, you're not quite there yet. We know. It takes a long time for the pain to fade, and sometimes the scars never do. But don't feel like you have to go it alone because you don't. We've proven that.
Whether it's in writing your novel down to the last seconds before the deadline (you know who you are), staying up until three in the morning to comfort a friend, or simply being there for your friend to hide the tears in while the rest of the world keeps spinning around. You do not have to do this alone. Because lions are known for their bravery, but lambs are never without their herd or their Shepard.
So enjoy your time with one another, cherish each other. Do not dread the times to come, because even though friends leave, family has a weird way of sitting in the heart. Reconnect with people you've drifted from, treasure those faces who have done so much even despite having never met you face to face before, reach out to someone new, talk to somehow who looks intimidating. None of them bite. Most of all, love each other.
I believe the theme of this year is Ordinary Heroes? You guys have been talking about some of the greatest literary examples: Frodo, Luke Skywalker, Scrooge, and a Garcia, I believe. They were all ordinary people with damaged pasts who had strange little quirks; in other words, a lot more similar to you than you realize. Frodo was an orphan, Luke had the dark emperor for a dad, Scrooge lost his love to money, Garcia had to face the giant of WW2.
I don't know if you have or will be talking about this particular character, but let me just say he's probably the biggest one. If you want ordinary, he was the epitome of ordinary. He did nothing but woodwork for thirty years and grew up in what was at the time one of the smallest, overlooked, unappreciated towns. He decides to shake the world and his reward at the end of it all is death. But if you look at his two greatest commandments, they don't say be great, or to be well versed, or to conquer the world. They simply command us to love.
For if we have any sort of gift or greatness or power, but not love, then what are we? We're just an ordinary teenage writing group full of broken people with our own strange little quirks.
And maybe that's just enough to build something on. Maybe that's just enough to shake a dark and lonely world. Hello there, world. Hear OYAN roar.
Yours very affectionately,
Miguel Flores
Musings from Matthew:
Okay, here it comes...my late-night thoughts that I wrote up and couldn't bring myself to share in person. Here's my take on the workshop. I know it's different. I'm glad so many of you had such a perfect time. But life isn't always perfect.
----------------------------------------
Sometimes things need to be said that nobody is saying.
This year was different, for me at least. I haven’t changed much in the past year, but everything around me changed, several times, and abruptly. For a high-functioning autistic person with OCD and social anxiety disorder, change like that is very upsetting.
Since I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, I’ve become part of the outcast group. You know, the group where you find the troublemakers, the non-Christians, the dark writers who actually write about things that happen all the time in the real world. The less-than-perfect recipients of ignorant judgment. And you know what? Every single one of them is an amazing, beautiful person.
There’s a lack of love here. And I’m sure most of you think I’m crazy, of course there’s a lot of love here. But is love really love if it’s conditional? There’s more love here than many other places but it is still lacking and that’s something we cannot ignore. A community that supposes itself to be a wonderful, loving environment must hold itself to a higher standard…or be torn apart.
I’ve heard people talking about other people behind their backs. I’ve seen kids in tears because of something another person said, and others barely holding together while trying to comfort them. The most caring friends I have here have been described in rather harsh terms by other people who don’t understand them.
Some of you may not have any idea what is going on. Maybe you’ll go home and write overly dramatic accounts of your time here, making it sound like a sort of sleep-deprived heaven where nothing can go wrong. Maybe you know, but you choose to ignore it. Or maybe you know and care but don’t know how to help.
Whatever the reason, love isn’t love if you simply care about a person but reject them for being too different or too depressed or too dark or too difficult. It isn’t love to speak against someone’s beliefs or experiences without first making sure you understand what you’re talking about. After all:
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
It’s easier to work with assumptions and reject people you don’t like, than to actually get to know them, and understand who they are and why they do what they do.
Loving is difficult because understanding is difficult.
Let me point out that “understand” is comprised of the words “under” and “stand”. You’re not standing above looking down at an object and studying it so you know how to use it, or how to fix it. To understand means to put yourself beneath something, to be willing to learn from it. You can be under someone as a student or as a support, but either way you have to treat them as more important than yourself.
I don’t know if my little ramble will have any effect. What I’d like to see is a little more effort put into understanding people who think differently, speak differently, and live differently, instead of just forming a majority group of like-minded people and silencing the dark anomalies. Y’all are such beautiful, messed-up people, and I love you. So if you give a damn, get off your ass and learn to really love people regardless of how they speak or what they believe.
~Matthew Lauser
----------------------------------------
Sometimes things need to be said that nobody is saying.
This year was different, for me at least. I haven’t changed much in the past year, but everything around me changed, several times, and abruptly. For a high-functioning autistic person with OCD and social anxiety disorder, change like that is very upsetting.
Since I don’t feel like I belong anywhere, I’ve become part of the outcast group. You know, the group where you find the troublemakers, the non-Christians, the dark writers who actually write about things that happen all the time in the real world. The less-than-perfect recipients of ignorant judgment. And you know what? Every single one of them is an amazing, beautiful person.
There’s a lack of love here. And I’m sure most of you think I’m crazy, of course there’s a lot of love here. But is love really love if it’s conditional? There’s more love here than many other places but it is still lacking and that’s something we cannot ignore. A community that supposes itself to be a wonderful, loving environment must hold itself to a higher standard…or be torn apart.
I’ve heard people talking about other people behind their backs. I’ve seen kids in tears because of something another person said, and others barely holding together while trying to comfort them. The most caring friends I have here have been described in rather harsh terms by other people who don’t understand them.
Some of you may not have any idea what is going on. Maybe you’ll go home and write overly dramatic accounts of your time here, making it sound like a sort of sleep-deprived heaven where nothing can go wrong. Maybe you know, but you choose to ignore it. Or maybe you know and care but don’t know how to help.
Whatever the reason, love isn’t love if you simply care about a person but reject them for being too different or too depressed or too dark or too difficult. It isn’t love to speak against someone’s beliefs or experiences without first making sure you understand what you’re talking about. After all:
“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”
It’s easier to work with assumptions and reject people you don’t like, than to actually get to know them, and understand who they are and why they do what they do.
Loving is difficult because understanding is difficult.
Let me point out that “understand” is comprised of the words “under” and “stand”. You’re not standing above looking down at an object and studying it so you know how to use it, or how to fix it. To understand means to put yourself beneath something, to be willing to learn from it. You can be under someone as a student or as a support, but either way you have to treat them as more important than yourself.
I don’t know if my little ramble will have any effect. What I’d like to see is a little more effort put into understanding people who think differently, speak differently, and live differently, instead of just forming a majority group of like-minded people and silencing the dark anomalies. Y’all are such beautiful, messed-up people, and I love you. So if you give a damn, get off your ass and learn to really love people regardless of how they speak or what they believe.
~Matthew Lauser
No Jests from Josh (Part 2):
Okay. So. I know I already made a post, and I know a bunch of you already read it, but I really feel like I need to get it out of my head more. This is the only type of writing I can do, and will ever be able to do, which is explaining my thoughts into words. I'm going to try to write as if I'm writing to someone who hasn't been to the SW, which is what i've been trying to do all day. Sorry for spamming the group.
Three years ago, my mom bought this writing curriculum. I didn't want to do it. I hated writing. I had no interest in writing a novel. I couldn't care less. As we were opening the box, there was something in there about a students forum. I thought "Hey cool! I like forums." So I joined them.
And that's when it all started.
I joined the forum. The first person to welcome me was Eric Johnson. I continued to get more and more welcomes. It was cool. People are nice here. I started stuff around the forum, and I got involved. I started the curriculum. My story idea was choppy for awhile, but I pressed on and continued. I took a break from doing lessons for awhile, I don't know why. But I kept doing the forum. I really enjoyed the people there, and I loved talking to people even though they were writers and I wasnt.
A year later, this thing called the "Summer Workshop" came up. I didn't know what it was. I thought it was just this thing where you go and do writing stuff and then come home. When it was over, however, I saw people posting about how sad they were. I saw how they seemed to really like it. Huh. That got me thinking. I saw in the forum there was a topic for these signed pages things so I signed up for the heck of it. A few weeks later, I received in the mail a giant book full of signatures of people that had been there. Wow. They say things like "miss you want you here"
People on the internet are real. They seem cool. Woah.
Next year, it happened again. More signed pages. More signatures. More friends. Wow.
Sometime around then, I had to finish my novel. With the help of a lot of people, I proudly finished my OYAN, not even caring about how short it was. I had done it. Me, a non writer, and just written a novel. Woah. I did it.
That year's SW was probably the hardest to go through. That year, I had finished my novel. I had knew what it was. But I still thought of it as a stupid writing conference that would bore me out of my skull if I went. Sure, there might be cool people, but WRITING. OH LORD HOW COULD I STAND IT. It happened again. The statuses about withdrawal. THe sadness. I thought again.
Somewhere around that time Mrs. S asked me to help moderate a few boards on the forum. I accepted, and continued to make more friends, and continued to become more involved in the community. Sometime around December or January, I finally expressed my interest in the SW to my mom, which I thought was against my better judgement. We talked about it for awhile, and decided that it would be a cool thing to do, but we weren't sure yet. I don't know. I continued to make really awesome friends and be active as a semi moderator in the community.
Then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked.
Okay not really. But something happened that would change this story forever. Someone noticed my contributions to the forum. Someone noticed that I was actually a part of the forum. Someone noticed. Because of that someone, attending the SW was no longer a large problem financially. So there it is guys. I wouldn't go if it wasn't for that. That's my secret. I wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for that. Because of that moment, I knew this was my year. I had to do it.
I told my parents about it. We talked more about it. After a few days of mulling it over, they said yes. I was going to the SW. I couldn't believe it. Was this a good decision? Until the day I arrived at the SW, I seconded guessed my decision. Was it a good idea? Would I really enjoy this?
In the weeks leading up to the SW, I talked to a great many of you about it. I am so sorry for not believing you when you said it was a really awesome week. You guys said it was epicness defined. You guys said it was the best week ever. But I still second guessed. How could a conference about writing be so awesome? Wouldn't it get boring for me while I was there? Even up at that point, I still thought of it as some stupid writing conference but hey at least I get to meet cool people.
A month left. I wasn't thinking about it. I was too focused on graduation.
Two weeks left. Graduation consumed my thoughts.
One week. I was thinking about it. What if people didn't like me? What if I didnt' like it?
One day. This was it. I was going through it with. I was about to board a plane to the so called epic epicness. It was surreal. For three years I had heard about this. I was finally going.
The day of. So nervous. I'm on the plane. So nervous. I get there. Still nervous.
First OYANer sighting. Meghan LeBedz Ashlynne Kirkpatrick
Wow. They. Um. They're real. OYANers exist outside of a computer screen. I sat there. For the full 5 hours at the airport, I had no idea what to say. Probably because everyone there had had a super early flight and was in no mood to talk or discuss anything.
The shuttle finally got there. Woah. I'm almost there. We pull into the bell center. OYANers everywhere. Familiar faces. First person I say hi to is Mb Grasha. Hi.
Somehow I'm able to walk into the bell center. WHAT. ALL YOU. GUYS. I'm overwhelmed at everyone here. I can't believe it. No idea where to start. What am I doing. People start coming up to say hello. I don't' know who said hello next. I think it might have been Ellipsis Period.
I checked in. I went to my dorm. I put my stuff. As I put my stuff there, I thought to myself and wondered what the heck I was doing. Did I do the right thing?
I hung around in the bell center for a little longer, then I finally made it to the gym for dinner. Woah. I was actually here. I was actually meeting you guys. I can't believe it. I don't remember who I sat with while I ate, I think it was Eric Johnson and dirk.
I walked up and just walked around the place for awhile, and then I sat down with dots and Leinad O'neil. Talked for a bit. I don't remember what happened after that. I continued meeting so many of you.
The next day was weird. I woke up. The first thing I thought was "I'm actually here. No way." So I continued the day, sitting through sessions and stuff. Critique groups. UGH. How do I get through four hours of listening to this. I didn't do hardly anything for the first excerpt, but somehow, as time went on, I started to semi enjoy it. Sure, I didn't like listening to all the stuff about improving and revising novels. Whatever. I can sit through it. BUt I did make comments and stuff. yeah. I made it through each day not contributing THAT much, but apparently enough for my group to recognize that I hated writing and was still contributing. :P
What next? I had met just about everyone, and all that. I was having an amazing time. I was hanging out with awesome people, and having a blast. I had forgotten all the crap I had due. I forgot about all the stuff I had been worried sick about for so long. My social life didn't suck, but going to the SW helped me so much to relieve me a week of my stress and work. for one week, I was able to relax and just have fun talking to some of my best friends.
Fast forward to the last day. Wow. It's over. No. It can't be. Already? But it's been so soon. I love everyone too much for it to be over already. Please don't let it be over. I have friends outside of OYAN that are awesome, but it can't be over already. It's only just begun. It's so surreal. I made it through the final sessions fine, but the last session. Mr. S compared OYAN and the SW to rivendell. (Forgive me here, I'm paraphrasing) He talked about how we're a home to some, a refuge for others. Mr. S talked about wanting to share and give this creativity and healing to others. He gave his vision for the Hobbit holes. How can he accomplish such a staggering feet? He can't. We can't. Not without God.
This moment, I realized what OYAN really was. WHat it was really about. Not a group of people I talk to on the internet, not a group of writers obsessed with shipping fictional characters. Not a group of Christians. We're all that, but we're more. We're a group of people, not just here by chance, but I believe that we're all here because of God. When that curriculum came in the mail, we became a part of something, a part of something that has done amazing things, and is not finished.
We're a group of people who love each other, who are accepting, who will care so much about everyone, no matter who they are, who will show the love of Christ to everyone. That's what OYAN is. We just happen to all be writers.
That's what I got from Mr. S's final talk. We can't do it alone. That's what he said. But the S's still believe that someway, somehow, it's meant to be. How will it happen? We don't know. God does. If God's meant it to be, it'll happen.
The last session finally ended. Woah. That was. Woah. Really? I can't even begin to comprehend anything at this point. I walk out of the bell center, and everyone's crying. It's over. No more sessions, no more meals, no more anything. Just a final three hours to hang out with some of the best people anyone's ever met. But before those three hours began, a bunch of us met outside in front of the bell center to pray over what Mr. S had just said. After about 10 or 15 minutes of praying and singing, Mr. S walks out. Someone calls for him to stand in the middle. The next 15 minutes are spent praying over Mr. S, the community, and the future of everything. It was in that moment that I actually shed a tear. I've never done that before. You guys really moved me. God moved me. I've never had that happen before out of the countless teary situations I've been in.
I left the prayer group and go back to the tipping lounge. I had just witnessed one of the most amazing things ever, and i"ll thank God every day for it. I spent the rest of my evening saying final goodbyes and hanging out listening to Mr. S tell stories in the lounge. Around 12:45, I finally made it back to my dorm. It was over. Dozens of long conversations, dozens of amazing people, dozens of hugs, and so many novels read through. It was finally over. I spent the next hour and a half in my dorm mulling over it all, listening to music, and praying, and checking facebook and the forum. It had been an amazing time, but it was finally over.
Checked out. At the airport. Going home. Cry. Sad. Goodbye hugs. It's over.
I've been changed. I don't even know if this 2000 word wall has even begun to explain the depth of what I've been through this week. I love all you guys so much.
I've made some amazing friends, and strengthened some friendships that previously only existed on the internet.
Yes, we have disagreements, yes, things happen, but that doesn't change who we are. Everyone makes mistakes. Every group has their downsides. But you know what? The SW was the only time in my life where I've been in a group that size and not felt completely overwhelmed. It's so different. I don't know how to explain it.
Don't forget who you are guys, don't forget who WE are. I love all of you so much and I've spent the entire day talking to all of you about how much I miss you. Thanks for making this week one of the best weeks of my life. I hope this post has somehow explained what's been in my head all day, I wouldn't have been able to sleep without it. Goodnight, and I love you all. God's got some amazing things in store for us and the S's.
Josh
Three years ago, my mom bought this writing curriculum. I didn't want to do it. I hated writing. I had no interest in writing a novel. I couldn't care less. As we were opening the box, there was something in there about a students forum. I thought "Hey cool! I like forums." So I joined them.
And that's when it all started.
I joined the forum. The first person to welcome me was Eric Johnson. I continued to get more and more welcomes. It was cool. People are nice here. I started stuff around the forum, and I got involved. I started the curriculum. My story idea was choppy for awhile, but I pressed on and continued. I took a break from doing lessons for awhile, I don't know why. But I kept doing the forum. I really enjoyed the people there, and I loved talking to people even though they were writers and I wasnt.
A year later, this thing called the "Summer Workshop" came up. I didn't know what it was. I thought it was just this thing where you go and do writing stuff and then come home. When it was over, however, I saw people posting about how sad they were. I saw how they seemed to really like it. Huh. That got me thinking. I saw in the forum there was a topic for these signed pages things so I signed up for the heck of it. A few weeks later, I received in the mail a giant book full of signatures of people that had been there. Wow. They say things like "miss you want you here"
People on the internet are real. They seem cool. Woah.
Next year, it happened again. More signed pages. More signatures. More friends. Wow.
Sometime around then, I had to finish my novel. With the help of a lot of people, I proudly finished my OYAN, not even caring about how short it was. I had done it. Me, a non writer, and just written a novel. Woah. I did it.
That year's SW was probably the hardest to go through. That year, I had finished my novel. I had knew what it was. But I still thought of it as a stupid writing conference that would bore me out of my skull if I went. Sure, there might be cool people, but WRITING. OH LORD HOW COULD I STAND IT. It happened again. The statuses about withdrawal. THe sadness. I thought again.
Somewhere around that time Mrs. S asked me to help moderate a few boards on the forum. I accepted, and continued to make more friends, and continued to become more involved in the community. Sometime around December or January, I finally expressed my interest in the SW to my mom, which I thought was against my better judgement. We talked about it for awhile, and decided that it would be a cool thing to do, but we weren't sure yet. I don't know. I continued to make really awesome friends and be active as a semi moderator in the community.
Then, everything changed when the fire nation attacked.
Okay not really. But something happened that would change this story forever. Someone noticed my contributions to the forum. Someone noticed that I was actually a part of the forum. Someone noticed. Because of that someone, attending the SW was no longer a large problem financially. So there it is guys. I wouldn't go if it wasn't for that. That's my secret. I wouldn't have gone if it hadn't been for that. Because of that moment, I knew this was my year. I had to do it.
I told my parents about it. We talked more about it. After a few days of mulling it over, they said yes. I was going to the SW. I couldn't believe it. Was this a good decision? Until the day I arrived at the SW, I seconded guessed my decision. Was it a good idea? Would I really enjoy this?
In the weeks leading up to the SW, I talked to a great many of you about it. I am so sorry for not believing you when you said it was a really awesome week. You guys said it was epicness defined. You guys said it was the best week ever. But I still second guessed. How could a conference about writing be so awesome? Wouldn't it get boring for me while I was there? Even up at that point, I still thought of it as some stupid writing conference but hey at least I get to meet cool people.
A month left. I wasn't thinking about it. I was too focused on graduation.
Two weeks left. Graduation consumed my thoughts.
One week. I was thinking about it. What if people didn't like me? What if I didnt' like it?
One day. This was it. I was going through it with. I was about to board a plane to the so called epic epicness. It was surreal. For three years I had heard about this. I was finally going.
The day of. So nervous. I'm on the plane. So nervous. I get there. Still nervous.
First OYANer sighting. Meghan LeBedz Ashlynne Kirkpatrick
Wow. They. Um. They're real. OYANers exist outside of a computer screen. I sat there. For the full 5 hours at the airport, I had no idea what to say. Probably because everyone there had had a super early flight and was in no mood to talk or discuss anything.
The shuttle finally got there. Woah. I'm almost there. We pull into the bell center. OYANers everywhere. Familiar faces. First person I say hi to is Mb Grasha. Hi.
Somehow I'm able to walk into the bell center. WHAT. ALL YOU. GUYS. I'm overwhelmed at everyone here. I can't believe it. No idea where to start. What am I doing. People start coming up to say hello. I don't' know who said hello next. I think it might have been Ellipsis Period.
I checked in. I went to my dorm. I put my stuff. As I put my stuff there, I thought to myself and wondered what the heck I was doing. Did I do the right thing?
I hung around in the bell center for a little longer, then I finally made it to the gym for dinner. Woah. I was actually here. I was actually meeting you guys. I can't believe it. I don't remember who I sat with while I ate, I think it was Eric Johnson and dirk.
I walked up and just walked around the place for awhile, and then I sat down with dots and Leinad O'neil. Talked for a bit. I don't remember what happened after that. I continued meeting so many of you.
The next day was weird. I woke up. The first thing I thought was "I'm actually here. No way." So I continued the day, sitting through sessions and stuff. Critique groups. UGH. How do I get through four hours of listening to this. I didn't do hardly anything for the first excerpt, but somehow, as time went on, I started to semi enjoy it. Sure, I didn't like listening to all the stuff about improving and revising novels. Whatever. I can sit through it. BUt I did make comments and stuff. yeah. I made it through each day not contributing THAT much, but apparently enough for my group to recognize that I hated writing and was still contributing. :P
What next? I had met just about everyone, and all that. I was having an amazing time. I was hanging out with awesome people, and having a blast. I had forgotten all the crap I had due. I forgot about all the stuff I had been worried sick about for so long. My social life didn't suck, but going to the SW helped me so much to relieve me a week of my stress and work. for one week, I was able to relax and just have fun talking to some of my best friends.
Fast forward to the last day. Wow. It's over. No. It can't be. Already? But it's been so soon. I love everyone too much for it to be over already. Please don't let it be over. I have friends outside of OYAN that are awesome, but it can't be over already. It's only just begun. It's so surreal. I made it through the final sessions fine, but the last session. Mr. S compared OYAN and the SW to rivendell. (Forgive me here, I'm paraphrasing) He talked about how we're a home to some, a refuge for others. Mr. S talked about wanting to share and give this creativity and healing to others. He gave his vision for the Hobbit holes. How can he accomplish such a staggering feet? He can't. We can't. Not without God.
This moment, I realized what OYAN really was. WHat it was really about. Not a group of people I talk to on the internet, not a group of writers obsessed with shipping fictional characters. Not a group of Christians. We're all that, but we're more. We're a group of people, not just here by chance, but I believe that we're all here because of God. When that curriculum came in the mail, we became a part of something, a part of something that has done amazing things, and is not finished.
We're a group of people who love each other, who are accepting, who will care so much about everyone, no matter who they are, who will show the love of Christ to everyone. That's what OYAN is. We just happen to all be writers.
That's what I got from Mr. S's final talk. We can't do it alone. That's what he said. But the S's still believe that someway, somehow, it's meant to be. How will it happen? We don't know. God does. If God's meant it to be, it'll happen.
The last session finally ended. Woah. That was. Woah. Really? I can't even begin to comprehend anything at this point. I walk out of the bell center, and everyone's crying. It's over. No more sessions, no more meals, no more anything. Just a final three hours to hang out with some of the best people anyone's ever met. But before those three hours began, a bunch of us met outside in front of the bell center to pray over what Mr. S had just said. After about 10 or 15 minutes of praying and singing, Mr. S walks out. Someone calls for him to stand in the middle. The next 15 minutes are spent praying over Mr. S, the community, and the future of everything. It was in that moment that I actually shed a tear. I've never done that before. You guys really moved me. God moved me. I've never had that happen before out of the countless teary situations I've been in.
I left the prayer group and go back to the tipping lounge. I had just witnessed one of the most amazing things ever, and i"ll thank God every day for it. I spent the rest of my evening saying final goodbyes and hanging out listening to Mr. S tell stories in the lounge. Around 12:45, I finally made it back to my dorm. It was over. Dozens of long conversations, dozens of amazing people, dozens of hugs, and so many novels read through. It was finally over. I spent the next hour and a half in my dorm mulling over it all, listening to music, and praying, and checking facebook and the forum. It had been an amazing time, but it was finally over.
Checked out. At the airport. Going home. Cry. Sad. Goodbye hugs. It's over.
I've been changed. I don't even know if this 2000 word wall has even begun to explain the depth of what I've been through this week. I love all you guys so much.
I've made some amazing friends, and strengthened some friendships that previously only existed on the internet.
Yes, we have disagreements, yes, things happen, but that doesn't change who we are. Everyone makes mistakes. Every group has their downsides. But you know what? The SW was the only time in my life where I've been in a group that size and not felt completely overwhelmed. It's so different. I don't know how to explain it.
Don't forget who you are guys, don't forget who WE are. I love all of you so much and I've spent the entire day talking to all of you about how much I miss you. Thanks for making this week one of the best weeks of my life. I hope this post has somehow explained what's been in my head all day, I wouldn't have been able to sleep without it. Goodnight, and I love you all. God's got some amazing things in store for us and the S's.
Josh
No Jests from Josh (Part 1):
Wow. What an amazing week this has been. I was so nervous to Begin this week but as I'm sitting on the plane writing this I'm feeling so sad. I'm not good with words so I have no idea how much sense this thing is gonna make.
I love you guys. So much. I mean, I had nice conversations with you guys on Facebook and stuff before met you guys but wow. I walked into the bell center Monday and I was overwhelmed by the mount of familiar faces. I had no idea what to do. Thankfully, some of you guys noticed my awkwardness and introduced yourselves and t just kinda went from there.
Sitting through the sessions was difficult, but not unbearable. I don't like writing. I couldn't care less about how to edit a story or how to create a world. But it was still amazing. I loved sitting and talking with so many of you. I'm sorry I didn't get to hang out with everyone as much as I wanted to.
I understand it all now. I understand why the sw is held in such high regard. Wait. That's an understatement. This was without a doubt one of the greatest weeks I've ever had. I miss you all so much.
Thanks to everyone in my critique group for putting up with me,I know I didn't have anything to bring and my feedback was basically me just agreeing with others and nothing grammatical errors.
You guys are different. I've never been in any group like it. And it isn't because you're homeschoolers. (Most of you). You're oyaners. You make me feel so great. I talked with some of you for hours, some for ten minutes. I loved all of it.
The first day? The speaker talked about describing OYAN. Everyone laughed. It's true. How can you describe us? I don't know.
Yes, all of us argue over the internet. It happens. But I just...feel like my thoughts on all that changed when I went to the SW. I mean...I had never met any of you in real life...Just...I don't know. I love all of you (I've said this so much) and even though we have our differences, we still love each other and we can do great things.
No, this is not a stereotypical "hurr durr we r disgrr but we cn du gr8 things cuz god"
It isn't. It's truly how I feel. I've met so many of you know. I believe that's something I can say with truth now because IRL is so much different than houston.
I'm sitting in my room now wondering how to explain to my parents what I did this week. No one but you guys understand how awesome this week was. How do I explain to people that I went to a week long conference when I hate writing? How do I tell people the amazing things I talked about and did this week? You guys understand. Hopefully I can come up with some explanation to my parents about why this week was so freaking awesome.
Last night when we all prayed over Mr. S was unreal. It was awesome. I believe that God has done great things through us. I don't think he's quite done yet. I love all of you more than I can ever hope to express properly individually or in my limited skills writing. You guys mean so much to me and attending was the best thing I've ever done. I have so much to say that'll probably come out over the next few weeks. Oyan forever.
Josh/JDG
I love you guys. So much. I mean, I had nice conversations with you guys on Facebook and stuff before met you guys but wow. I walked into the bell center Monday and I was overwhelmed by the mount of familiar faces. I had no idea what to do. Thankfully, some of you guys noticed my awkwardness and introduced yourselves and t just kinda went from there.
Sitting through the sessions was difficult, but not unbearable. I don't like writing. I couldn't care less about how to edit a story or how to create a world. But it was still amazing. I loved sitting and talking with so many of you. I'm sorry I didn't get to hang out with everyone as much as I wanted to.
I understand it all now. I understand why the sw is held in such high regard. Wait. That's an understatement. This was without a doubt one of the greatest weeks I've ever had. I miss you all so much.
Thanks to everyone in my critique group for putting up with me,I know I didn't have anything to bring and my feedback was basically me just agreeing with others and nothing grammatical errors.
You guys are different. I've never been in any group like it. And it isn't because you're homeschoolers. (Most of you). You're oyaners. You make me feel so great. I talked with some of you for hours, some for ten minutes. I loved all of it.
The first day? The speaker talked about describing OYAN. Everyone laughed. It's true. How can you describe us? I don't know.
Yes, all of us argue over the internet. It happens. But I just...feel like my thoughts on all that changed when I went to the SW. I mean...I had never met any of you in real life...Just...I don't know. I love all of you (I've said this so much) and even though we have our differences, we still love each other and we can do great things.
No, this is not a stereotypical "hurr durr we r disgrr but we cn du gr8 things cuz god"
It isn't. It's truly how I feel. I've met so many of you know. I believe that's something I can say with truth now because IRL is so much different than houston.
I'm sitting in my room now wondering how to explain to my parents what I did this week. No one but you guys understand how awesome this week was. How do I explain to people that I went to a week long conference when I hate writing? How do I tell people the amazing things I talked about and did this week? You guys understand. Hopefully I can come up with some explanation to my parents about why this week was so freaking awesome.
Last night when we all prayed over Mr. S was unreal. It was awesome. I believe that God has done great things through us. I don't think he's quite done yet. I love all of you more than I can ever hope to express properly individually or in my limited skills writing. You guys mean so much to me and attending was the best thing I've ever done. I have so much to say that'll probably come out over the next few weeks. Oyan forever.
Josh/JDG
From the Awe of Irie:
Wow. Wow. Wow. I just. I just can't even believe. Like. Anything at the moment. I was so scared - I had such high expectations for the SW. I was sure none would come true. I was sure I'd be the girl standing awkwardly in the corner, watching everyone, like I am most everywhere else. But I wasn't. Because, you see, at normal places, the conversations goes:
"Hi! I'm Irie!"
"I'm *insert name.* What do you like to do?"
"Ummm.... write stories... And watch Doctor Who... and read classic literature..."
"Oh."
*awkward silence*
At the SW? I talked with so many awesome people. And I could talk to all of them, for, like, hours, about all my favorite things. And it was awesome beyond awesome. And. I still can't really process that I was even there.
THE SESSIONS. They was so wonderful. I just can't believe it. I am so encouraged, and ready to tackle editing my novel - something I've never done before. And the best part is, I only got like... two random plot bunnies. The rest of the inspiration applied directly to my current novel.
MY CRITIQUE GROUP WAS SO AWESOME. It's the first time I've ever had anything really critiqued. And now I am so excited to start fixing my novel.
I won't miss Kansas. Sorry. Way too hot and humid. I almost died while trying to find my dorm room on the first day. I actually did a little dance when I stepped out into the wonderful 65 degree weather back home this evening :D
I almost cried last night. Because, so many people, so many friendly, nice people all together doing writer things and I was going home the next day and I wouldn't see them again for so long... but then I realized it's not the end. I'm not sad anymore. It's not "over." I've been more encouraged than ever before. Now that I've seen you, OYAN is so much more "real" to me. I see all of us - young writers - and I know I'm not alone.
So. This was longer than I planned. Oh well. To sum it up in one sentence: This past week was the best of my life. Thank you OYAN.
And now I'm off to sleep. And edit. And tell my friends about all the epicness and hope they join OYAN too :D
~Irie Odessa
"Hi! I'm Irie!"
"I'm *insert name.* What do you like to do?"
"Ummm.... write stories... And watch Doctor Who... and read classic literature..."
"Oh."
*awkward silence*
At the SW? I talked with so many awesome people. And I could talk to all of them, for, like, hours, about all my favorite things. And it was awesome beyond awesome. And. I still can't really process that I was even there.
THE SESSIONS. They was so wonderful. I just can't believe it. I am so encouraged, and ready to tackle editing my novel - something I've never done before. And the best part is, I only got like... two random plot bunnies. The rest of the inspiration applied directly to my current novel.
MY CRITIQUE GROUP WAS SO AWESOME. It's the first time I've ever had anything really critiqued. And now I am so excited to start fixing my novel.
I won't miss Kansas. Sorry. Way too hot and humid. I almost died while trying to find my dorm room on the first day. I actually did a little dance when I stepped out into the wonderful 65 degree weather back home this evening :D
I almost cried last night. Because, so many people, so many friendly, nice people all together doing writer things and I was going home the next day and I wouldn't see them again for so long... but then I realized it's not the end. I'm not sad anymore. It's not "over." I've been more encouraged than ever before. Now that I've seen you, OYAN is so much more "real" to me. I see all of us - young writers - and I know I'm not alone.
So. This was longer than I planned. Oh well. To sum it up in one sentence: This past week was the best of my life. Thank you OYAN.
And now I'm off to sleep. And edit. And tell my friends about all the epicness and hope they join OYAN too :D
~Irie Odessa
From the Dreams of Jerah:
This year was my third workshop, yet this will be my first post-workshop rant. I’ve never been able to find the right words to describe how wonderful and life-changing the workshop is, and I doubt I’ll be able to find them now, but I’ll do my best. The real struggle will be typing this all up without bawling.
When I first arrived this year, I was shaking with anticipation of the awesomeness that was to come. But I couldn’t have known how different this year was going to be. I’m still not sure if I’ll ever know exactly what made this year so different, so… special. It might be the combination of many different things. This year, a lot more new people came, including many of my friends who I had never met in real life before. Also, several people told me that I had changed. Maybe that was one of the things that made everything so different for me. I looked at things differently this year. I valued it more than I had before, and I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t participate much in the prayer group, and when I did I usually only joined in on the last fifteen minutes or so. But nowhere else have I ever felt the presence of God stronger. On my way back to the dorms one night I stopped by the prayer group and Jonny led everyone in the song “How He Loves Us.” Now, I’m not one to cry over songs. I have never cried over a song before. But when we all finished singing I felt tears stinging my eyes. Singing this song with my friends and feeling how close God was at that moment was overwhelming.
The week felt strange. I mean time felt stretched, as if each day was a year. Yet when the week ended I kinda felt like “That’s it?” While it was happening it was so slow, but once it happened it was gone and seemed like it had only lasted an instant. Once Friday night came, I wanted to grab ahold of my friends and never let go. I was crying and I wasn’t ashamed because leaving my friends so that I can return to a lonely world is something worth crying about. I found my Rivendell and I most certainly didn’t want to leave.
People at my church kept trying to understand why I wanted to go to this writer’s workshop instead of going to youth camp to them. They told me, “But you need to go to youth camp!” And what did I say in response? “You don’t understand. I am going to youth camp.” Even when I tried describing the workshop to them, they didn’t understand. Finally, one girl in my youth group told me to describe what the workshop was for her in one word. I was silent for a moment. I couldn’t properly describe the workshop with all the words in the world at my disposal! How was I supposed to describe it with just one? But then it came to me. I looked up and her and quietly responded, saying one word and one word only.
“Love.”
~Jerah Miller/JayJay
When I first arrived this year, I was shaking with anticipation of the awesomeness that was to come. But I couldn’t have known how different this year was going to be. I’m still not sure if I’ll ever know exactly what made this year so different, so… special. It might be the combination of many different things. This year, a lot more new people came, including many of my friends who I had never met in real life before. Also, several people told me that I had changed. Maybe that was one of the things that made everything so different for me. I looked at things differently this year. I valued it more than I had before, and I didn’t want it to end.
I didn’t participate much in the prayer group, and when I did I usually only joined in on the last fifteen minutes or so. But nowhere else have I ever felt the presence of God stronger. On my way back to the dorms one night I stopped by the prayer group and Jonny led everyone in the song “How He Loves Us.” Now, I’m not one to cry over songs. I have never cried over a song before. But when we all finished singing I felt tears stinging my eyes. Singing this song with my friends and feeling how close God was at that moment was overwhelming.
The week felt strange. I mean time felt stretched, as if each day was a year. Yet when the week ended I kinda felt like “That’s it?” While it was happening it was so slow, but once it happened it was gone and seemed like it had only lasted an instant. Once Friday night came, I wanted to grab ahold of my friends and never let go. I was crying and I wasn’t ashamed because leaving my friends so that I can return to a lonely world is something worth crying about. I found my Rivendell and I most certainly didn’t want to leave.
People at my church kept trying to understand why I wanted to go to this writer’s workshop instead of going to youth camp to them. They told me, “But you need to go to youth camp!” And what did I say in response? “You don’t understand. I am going to youth camp.” Even when I tried describing the workshop to them, they didn’t understand. Finally, one girl in my youth group told me to describe what the workshop was for her in one word. I was silent for a moment. I couldn’t properly describe the workshop with all the words in the world at my disposal! How was I supposed to describe it with just one? But then it came to me. I looked up and her and quietly responded, saying one word and one word only.
“Love.”
~Jerah Miller/JayJay
Comments from Kalina:
So I'm not at Workshops this year.
I mean, life gets in the way. Money issues, priorities, that sort of thing.
And this all made sense in my head a few months ago when I had to make the decision of whether or not I should/could go.
But man, now I'm seeing pictures of everything and remembering that feeling. You guys know exactly what I mean. You'll feel it tonight, when you say goodbye to everyone. When you stay up way later than is good for you after a week of insane awesomeness. Maybe you'll have another prayer circle and re-experience the Church of OYAN, because that totally is a thing.
I know Mig posted something similar - and a whole lot longer and more eloquent - but I just needed to share this.
I haven't been super active in the OYAN community lately - especially not the forum, but not a ton here either.
But somehow... looking at these pictures and hearing some of the stories and getting to Gmail chat with Callie, Star, and Isaac a bit... You kinda remember what home feels like. There's that satisfaction, I guess, that comes from being a part of OYAN. You know these people are crazy, and weird, and absolutely nuts, but you're all SO BEAUTIFUL and I honestly love you all so much. Because we're FAMILY. This is what family feels like. Yes, we fight (some more than others), but that's what families do. We just have to get over ourselves again and make up with each other and realize that at the end of the day, we ARE a family.
Enjoy this last day. Maybe I'll join you again next year. I love you all, and miss you SO MUCH.
~Kalina Myers
I mean, life gets in the way. Money issues, priorities, that sort of thing.
And this all made sense in my head a few months ago when I had to make the decision of whether or not I should/could go.
But man, now I'm seeing pictures of everything and remembering that feeling. You guys know exactly what I mean. You'll feel it tonight, when you say goodbye to everyone. When you stay up way later than is good for you after a week of insane awesomeness. Maybe you'll have another prayer circle and re-experience the Church of OYAN, because that totally is a thing.
I know Mig posted something similar - and a whole lot longer and more eloquent - but I just needed to share this.
I haven't been super active in the OYAN community lately - especially not the forum, but not a ton here either.
But somehow... looking at these pictures and hearing some of the stories and getting to Gmail chat with Callie, Star, and Isaac a bit... You kinda remember what home feels like. There's that satisfaction, I guess, that comes from being a part of OYAN. You know these people are crazy, and weird, and absolutely nuts, but you're all SO BEAUTIFUL and I honestly love you all so much. Because we're FAMILY. This is what family feels like. Yes, we fight (some more than others), but that's what families do. We just have to get over ourselves again and make up with each other and realize that at the end of the day, we ARE a family.
Enjoy this last day. Maybe I'll join you again next year. I love you all, and miss you SO MUCH.
~Kalina Myers
No Colons from Charlotte:
I think everything I have to say is just about the SW mostly comes from this morning and last night.
Last night....I don't even know how to describe it. I think I had some of the deepest conversations ever with some of my closest friends ever and felt not lonely for the first time in a very long time ever.
I think this workshop, for me, was more of a fellowship and healing time. The sessions and critique groups were both amazing, (Mark made me cry both times) but I feel like they didn't hit like spending time with my best friends and just feeling full, and loved, and cared about, and being able to really care about the people I love.
And the hugs. So many hugs.
I might miss that the most. Just hugging people and being hugged. It makes me think of the Doctor Who episode with the hundreds of people who have never been touched, and how The Doctor heals them all. And they just go around and touch each other, and heal each other, and you can see the sicknesses disappearing.
The SW kind of felt like that to me.
This morning I woke up and realized I'd slept past my alarm and missed saying goodbye to my best friend, which hurt. A lot.
And I was packing, and I realized that I had the song Adrienne and Leinad sang stuck in my head, particularly the, "We'll come back, when it's over. No need to say goodbye," bit. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNsQewlFtEs )
And I just totally broke down.
I feel like this is kind of my workshop theme song this year, and I'm going to start crying every time I listen to it for the next month or two (or six).
But the fabulous thing about OYAN is we can get to our semi colon, and go our separate ways, but we can still reach each other, which is so amazing.
~*~
Then in the car....The Hello Seattle remix started to play. I was half-asleep and just listening to it. For the first minute and thirty seconds it's a very slow, kind of a happy/sad thing that gives me feels whenever I listen to it. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQ7OIZONwl8 )
But then....then it switches to happiness and makes me feel motivated.
And I was thinking about how that point in the middle is the semi colon that Beecheerful talked about. The beginning of the song was this morning. The second part is the rest of the year.
Now I have to go out into the world and use this time of healing to give to others.
And I've decided that I need to end my life with an exclamation point rather than a period, or the semi colon.
Thank you guys. I love you all too much.
~Charlotte Anderson
Last night....I don't even know how to describe it. I think I had some of the deepest conversations ever with some of my closest friends ever and felt not lonely for the first time in a very long time ever.
I think this workshop, for me, was more of a fellowship and healing time. The sessions and critique groups were both amazing, (Mark made me cry both times) but I feel like they didn't hit like spending time with my best friends and just feeling full, and loved, and cared about, and being able to really care about the people I love.
And the hugs. So many hugs.
I might miss that the most. Just hugging people and being hugged. It makes me think of the Doctor Who episode with the hundreds of people who have never been touched, and how The Doctor heals them all. And they just go around and touch each other, and heal each other, and you can see the sicknesses disappearing.
The SW kind of felt like that to me.
This morning I woke up and realized I'd slept past my alarm and missed saying goodbye to my best friend, which hurt. A lot.
And I was packing, and I realized that I had the song Adrienne and Leinad sang stuck in my head, particularly the, "We'll come back, when it's over. No need to say goodbye," bit. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oNsQewlFtEs )
And I just totally broke down.
I feel like this is kind of my workshop theme song this year, and I'm going to start crying every time I listen to it for the next month or two (or six).
But the fabulous thing about OYAN is we can get to our semi colon, and go our separate ways, but we can still reach each other, which is so amazing.
~*~
Then in the car....The Hello Seattle remix started to play. I was half-asleep and just listening to it. For the first minute and thirty seconds it's a very slow, kind of a happy/sad thing that gives me feels whenever I listen to it. ( http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KQ7OIZONwl8 )
But then....then it switches to happiness and makes me feel motivated.
And I was thinking about how that point in the middle is the semi colon that Beecheerful talked about. The beginning of the song was this morning. The second part is the rest of the year.
Now I have to go out into the world and use this time of healing to give to others.
And I've decided that I need to end my life with an exclamation point rather than a period, or the semi colon.
Thank you guys. I love you all too much.
~Charlotte Anderson
From the Jewelbox of Jessie:
I can't cry.
I haven't cried since I broke down in front of Mr. S Friday night, and those were happy tears. I feel all numb.
But...happy?
I dunno... Thankful? Yeah. Thankful.
Grateful that I know I have a Rivendell now. A broken one, but nevertheless a home. I've never been anywhere in my life where I didn't feel inferior to people except with family. And you guys have become a huge, huge part of my family. I love you. ♥
~Jessie Lee Hill
I haven't cried since I broke down in front of Mr. S Friday night, and those were happy tears. I feel all numb.
But...happy?
I dunno... Thankful? Yeah. Thankful.
Grateful that I know I have a Rivendell now. A broken one, but nevertheless a home. I've never been anywhere in my life where I didn't feel inferior to people except with family. And you guys have become a huge, huge part of my family. I love you. ♥
~Jessie Lee Hill
From the tongue of David Rollick:
Here's my workshop thing; somehow I managed to be /too/ concise...
OYANers = Treasures -> Where treasure is, there is our heart. -> Where our heart is there is family.
"Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind."
~David Rollick
OYANers = Treasures -> Where treasure is, there is our heart. -> Where our heart is there is family.
"Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind."
~David Rollick
From the keyboard of Kate Wells:
#sendingvictimstextwallsatlatehourscauseyouaretryingtoprocesssomethingemotionallyandGodisall #HeysupgirlIloveyoueventhoughyouarentsureofwhatisgoingon #justholdonkiddo #causethatswhatImadeyoutodo
... You're an expert holder on-ner.
Is that me? I'm just ferociously stuck on Jesus to the point where I refuse to let go out of my own stubborn nature?
I've felt God speak through me before. But, to me? Not as much. The clearest moment I've ever had like that...
In February, I was thinking about doing something pretty stupid. I'll spare you the details. But, the words just popped into my head, "My child, you are stronger than that."
God didn't make me emotionally thick. I'm empathetic to the point that I hurt quite frequently for others. That's not the sort of strength I'm gifted with, being able to bulk my way through things. I'm strong, not like a brick. Not like a rock. But, like a tiger. (And, I'm not a cat person, so bear with me. #animalpunsseewhatIdidthere.) I'm not emotionally impenetrable, but rather, emotionally agile. I will stalk my faith, and watch it, and examine it, and pounce on it. I pursue it. Sometimes, I even hurt it. But, that's okay. Cause God does a rather nice job of fixing it for me.
This is OYAN. We're all mad here, but maybe, just maybe, our madness plays as strengths in different categories.
So, I just wanted to encourage you. Perhaps you don't feel strong enough to handle what you're going through. Because you feel pain. But, maybe, stop and consider the possibility that your feeling of pain, IS your strength. Or that, your strength lies in something you've yet to see. Being strong in faith and emotions doesn't always mean you're unshakable. I mean, if that's you, congratz. But, if it's not, don't despair.
We're different. There are people here on all walks of life, and I know you've gotten the "We love through differences" talk about a gazillion times, so I'll spare you. Bottom line, We are all. Every. Last. One. Of. Us. Running. To. Jesus.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRBQtIEEkrU
If you don't go for Christianity, or you feel too far from God, that doesn't necessarily mean you're not included in this race. You have no idea what the future holds. Like, look at Paul.
You're a "darkie" (I hate that label.) You're a "Sheltered homeschooler?" You're both running home to Jesus. You might as well hold hands on the way, because GOD KNOWS (not swearing, stating He actually knows.) the road is long and hard, and we need to support each other as best we can. I think that's why He gave us things like OYAN.
I don't care what your age, sex, location, orientation, beliefs, or preference in literature is. If you're running to Jesus, I will run beside you. I will support you. I will hoist you up by your sore armpits, and drag you down the path if you'd like me to. I'm in this community of Jesus OYANers for keeps. I'm not messing around.
Now for the blunt part:
I understand everyone's taken some refuge in associating with a group within OYAN. "Depressies" with "Depressies." "sheltered" with "sheltered." It's okay to find support within a narrowed down group of people, because OYAN is a big place. I know that's bound to happen, especially with these two groups. And, bad experiences when the two groups have mixed in the past have somewhat encouraged the segregation between them.
I'm not real preachy, so allow me to take the liberty, just this once.
Every time you separate yourselves, in an "Us Vs. Them" mentality, within this group, YOU are giving Satan a foothold to take us down. Simple as that. I don't care who started it. Whatever. Shame on them. That doesn't mean you have to continue it. I'm not blaming one side more than the other. I love both, and I ardently wish for both to stop subtly destroying the other.
Think of it like Legolas and Gimli. They're different; they have fights, yes? They even compete a bit. But, they work together. They use their differences as a spring board for a rather precious and diverse friendship. I've seen occasions of that happen between these two groups. Why is it seen as so hard for the factions as a whole to bridge the gap?
I don't want to hear how society is messed up, and we shouldn't even try. No. Don't give me that. We're better than that. We are SO. SO much better than that, through Christ.
So, you feel misunderstood by someone on the other side of this issue. Welcome to life. Look at Ashlynne Kirkpatrick and David Rollick. They're about as different as it gets. Yet, they manage to be friends, even through the debates and everything. I know they'd do almost anything for each other.
I have seen astounding levels of compassion from the "dark" group. I have seen incredible displays of love from the "sheltered" group. Y'all act surprisingly similar, within your circles, for being so supposedly "different."
This isn't a post on battling self harm, or how we need to reach out to those ignored, this isn't about educating others on our viewpoints, or a spot to vent on how we've been hurt in the past. While all those things are wonderful, and very needed at times, this is a post about forgiveness.
And running. Together.
I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I know not everyone will take the time to read this text wall. But, those who do, thank you.
I'm just saying, Mr. S didn't give up on me all the way back then, when I was "difficult" and annoying and a terrible student. He saw what I hope Jesus sees in me, potential-wise. He looked deeper.
I'm paying it forward. To the S's, and to Jesus.
As a community...We're together, yet split. We've got judgmental people, we've got slackers, we've got those who hurt, and those who hurt for others, we've got plot bunnies, and fluffnarks, and long treks through dangerous mountains. We've got love.
What am I asking for? I'm asking that we get over ourselves, and give the S's a break. Step into someone else's shoes, and stop fueling the division. Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I've been judged. On both sides.
I grew up Calvinist, then went to public school and made some really stupid choices. I used to frown down my nose at people, then, later, I scoffed at those frowning. Neither behavior heals. Okay?
I realized at the workshop, that there are people here who respect me, and look up to me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve that, but I appreciate it. And, if you're one of those people. If you consider yourself a friend of mine, or someone who values my opinion, then please, give this whole thing a rest.
Let's make July a month of love. LOVEMONTH. July is #OYANlovemonth
Where we focus on loving. Simply loving. Healing. No over analyzing how we've earned the right to hate someone based on past disagreements or personal blows.
If we're not love, we are nothing. Correct?
I've had some major life adjustments in the past week. I'm going through a bit of a wringer right now, and it's bringing out my deep side. I hope this doesn't come across condescending. And if it does, out of respect for the message, wait to point it out until August. If it bothers you that much, then feel free to PM me. I'll be happy to have a conversation with you about how inadequately I express what I think God wants me to say.
(And I'm not a super spiritual guru from the top of the mountain. I'm a cranky, whimsical 17 year old girl, banging this out on a laptop at a much-too-early morning hour.)
We're embers. All of us. Go burn something. Be a pyromaniac. Set the world on fire. LIGHT THE SHADOWS UP, UNTIL THERE IS NO CORNER OF SIN FOR SATAN TO HIDE IN.
You better believe he's paying attention to us. We're dangerous. We're bright. We're gifted in all areas, and God IS using us. Don't let this stop our movement.
http://24.media.tumblr.com/7d53070646f66f09a5f9641a5137329c/tumblr_mlo660BFUE1sonquko1_500.gif
God's special matches may grow dimmer, guys. But, they never go out.
I love you.
~Kate Wells
... You're an expert holder on-ner.
Is that me? I'm just ferociously stuck on Jesus to the point where I refuse to let go out of my own stubborn nature?
I've felt God speak through me before. But, to me? Not as much. The clearest moment I've ever had like that...
In February, I was thinking about doing something pretty stupid. I'll spare you the details. But, the words just popped into my head, "My child, you are stronger than that."
God didn't make me emotionally thick. I'm empathetic to the point that I hurt quite frequently for others. That's not the sort of strength I'm gifted with, being able to bulk my way through things. I'm strong, not like a brick. Not like a rock. But, like a tiger. (And, I'm not a cat person, so bear with me. #animalpunsseewhatIdidthere.) I'm not emotionally impenetrable, but rather, emotionally agile. I will stalk my faith, and watch it, and examine it, and pounce on it. I pursue it. Sometimes, I even hurt it. But, that's okay. Cause God does a rather nice job of fixing it for me.
This is OYAN. We're all mad here, but maybe, just maybe, our madness plays as strengths in different categories.
So, I just wanted to encourage you. Perhaps you don't feel strong enough to handle what you're going through. Because you feel pain. But, maybe, stop and consider the possibility that your feeling of pain, IS your strength. Or that, your strength lies in something you've yet to see. Being strong in faith and emotions doesn't always mean you're unshakable. I mean, if that's you, congratz. But, if it's not, don't despair.
We're different. There are people here on all walks of life, and I know you've gotten the "We love through differences" talk about a gazillion times, so I'll spare you. Bottom line, We are all. Every. Last. One. Of. Us. Running. To. Jesus.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JRBQtIEEkrU
If you don't go for Christianity, or you feel too far from God, that doesn't necessarily mean you're not included in this race. You have no idea what the future holds. Like, look at Paul.
You're a "darkie" (I hate that label.) You're a "Sheltered homeschooler?" You're both running home to Jesus. You might as well hold hands on the way, because GOD KNOWS (not swearing, stating He actually knows.) the road is long and hard, and we need to support each other as best we can. I think that's why He gave us things like OYAN.
I don't care what your age, sex, location, orientation, beliefs, or preference in literature is. If you're running to Jesus, I will run beside you. I will support you. I will hoist you up by your sore armpits, and drag you down the path if you'd like me to. I'm in this community of Jesus OYANers for keeps. I'm not messing around.
Now for the blunt part:
I understand everyone's taken some refuge in associating with a group within OYAN. "Depressies" with "Depressies." "sheltered" with "sheltered." It's okay to find support within a narrowed down group of people, because OYAN is a big place. I know that's bound to happen, especially with these two groups. And, bad experiences when the two groups have mixed in the past have somewhat encouraged the segregation between them.
I'm not real preachy, so allow me to take the liberty, just this once.
Every time you separate yourselves, in an "Us Vs. Them" mentality, within this group, YOU are giving Satan a foothold to take us down. Simple as that. I don't care who started it. Whatever. Shame on them. That doesn't mean you have to continue it. I'm not blaming one side more than the other. I love both, and I ardently wish for both to stop subtly destroying the other.
Think of it like Legolas and Gimli. They're different; they have fights, yes? They even compete a bit. But, they work together. They use their differences as a spring board for a rather precious and diverse friendship. I've seen occasions of that happen between these two groups. Why is it seen as so hard for the factions as a whole to bridge the gap?
I don't want to hear how society is messed up, and we shouldn't even try. No. Don't give me that. We're better than that. We are SO. SO much better than that, through Christ.
So, you feel misunderstood by someone on the other side of this issue. Welcome to life. Look at Ashlynne Kirkpatrick and David Rollick. They're about as different as it gets. Yet, they manage to be friends, even through the debates and everything. I know they'd do almost anything for each other.
I have seen astounding levels of compassion from the "dark" group. I have seen incredible displays of love from the "sheltered" group. Y'all act surprisingly similar, within your circles, for being so supposedly "different."
This isn't a post on battling self harm, or how we need to reach out to those ignored, this isn't about educating others on our viewpoints, or a spot to vent on how we've been hurt in the past. While all those things are wonderful, and very needed at times, this is a post about forgiveness.
And running. Together.
I'm not trying to guilt trip you. I know not everyone will take the time to read this text wall. But, those who do, thank you.
I'm just saying, Mr. S didn't give up on me all the way back then, when I was "difficult" and annoying and a terrible student. He saw what I hope Jesus sees in me, potential-wise. He looked deeper.
I'm paying it forward. To the S's, and to Jesus.
As a community...We're together, yet split. We've got judgmental people, we've got slackers, we've got those who hurt, and those who hurt for others, we've got plot bunnies, and fluffnarks, and long treks through dangerous mountains. We've got love.
What am I asking for? I'm asking that we get over ourselves, and give the S's a break. Step into someone else's shoes, and stop fueling the division. Don't tell me I don't know what I'm talking about. I've been judged. On both sides.
I grew up Calvinist, then went to public school and made some really stupid choices. I used to frown down my nose at people, then, later, I scoffed at those frowning. Neither behavior heals. Okay?
I realized at the workshop, that there are people here who respect me, and look up to me. I'm not sure what I did to deserve that, but I appreciate it. And, if you're one of those people. If you consider yourself a friend of mine, or someone who values my opinion, then please, give this whole thing a rest.
Let's make July a month of love. LOVEMONTH. July is #OYANlovemonth
Where we focus on loving. Simply loving. Healing. No over analyzing how we've earned the right to hate someone based on past disagreements or personal blows.
If we're not love, we are nothing. Correct?
I've had some major life adjustments in the past week. I'm going through a bit of a wringer right now, and it's bringing out my deep side. I hope this doesn't come across condescending. And if it does, out of respect for the message, wait to point it out until August. If it bothers you that much, then feel free to PM me. I'll be happy to have a conversation with you about how inadequately I express what I think God wants me to say.
(And I'm not a super spiritual guru from the top of the mountain. I'm a cranky, whimsical 17 year old girl, banging this out on a laptop at a much-too-early morning hour.)
We're embers. All of us. Go burn something. Be a pyromaniac. Set the world on fire. LIGHT THE SHADOWS UP, UNTIL THERE IS NO CORNER OF SIN FOR SATAN TO HIDE IN.
You better believe he's paying attention to us. We're dangerous. We're bright. We're gifted in all areas, and God IS using us. Don't let this stop our movement.
http://24.media.tumblr.com/7d53070646f66f09a5f9641a5137329c/tumblr_mlo660BFUE1sonquko1_500.gif
God's special matches may grow dimmer, guys. But, they never go out.
I love you.
~Kate Wells
THE MEANING OF OYAN
So I kinda got tired after facing about twenty or more people today who came up to me and asked, "WHAT WAS IT LIKE??"
They expect me to rant about the temperature, or swimming, or sunbathing, or something-weird-cause-that's-what-Sian-does. I got my camera out to show five pics to someone and they wandered off in the middle of it.
That's when you kinda realise people are happy for you because it's new and different, not because they're actually interested.
But some people are.
Some people want to know what it's like.
But I don't know who you are, so it's easier to shove a blog at you and ask you to read it, if you care. If you really truly care about the passion stirring in the hearts of 1,000 young men and women around the world.
OYAN. One Year Adventure Novel.
It's made up of fans, groupies, ultra-conservative Christians, legalists (I was one!), liberal Christians...waaaay liberal. (I love you guys! ;))
Some people found home. Life. Love. Acceptance. Trust.
Some people built walls and hit the wrong people when trying to take them down.
I found my best friends through OYAN. I met best friends who betrayed me and who I betrayed in OYAN.
I met the guy I fell in love with through OYAN. I met three of the five guys who I fell with and who fell with me, through OYAN.
OYAN is a combination of good and bad. It is not perfect. Because we are not.
Neither is OYAN exclusive. We make it so. God's love is unconditional. So should we be. And I know we find it hard.
But we understand each other and we bond more than most. Because we have a common cause - a common interest. We write. And we fangirl/fanboy out together. And WE HAVE A CHANCE - more of a chance than ANY OTHER CHURCH OUT THERE - because we're a bunch of crazy kids GOD has brought together, and we KNOW WHAT UNCONDITIONAL LOVE IS.
Because we've seen it. And it's been lived to us. And it lives in us.
He lives in us.
So I'm tired of trying to explain this. And it's so much easier just to shove a link at someone. How do you explain what 500+ kids full of writerliness, craziness and God's love are like to a world that hears only, "Writing conference"?
It's anything but. Their reaction is a polite smile and an "oh-you're-just-obsessed-with-American-stuff" look.
Here, in the words of Julia Duke, is that explained - the way that is to us:
"That moment when you're chatting with someone who you just don't know how to express alllllllll your feels to. All of them. And meanwhile you're going absolutely nuts inside and trying to hold it all in. And you just want to be all like "ASFLKJWOIDLKJFLKJSLKJDLJKLKJF I HAD THE BEST DAY AND THE BEST NIGHT EVER" but you can't. Because they won't get you. They won't understand, they'll just be like, "That'sniceIdon'treallycare."
Please tell me I'm not the only one. =_="
No, Julia, you aren't. :)
So guys. If you REALLY want to know what OYAN is like. Read this blog.
It's made of twenty-eight posts from OYAN attendees and non-attendees to this year's Summer Workshop.
This is what OYAN means to these people, guys.
This is Home.
~Sian Garner-Jones/Queen Jane by God's Grace
They expect me to rant about the temperature, or swimming, or sunbathing, or something-weird-cause-that's-what-Sian-does. I got my camera out to show five pics to someone and they wandered off in the middle of it.
That's when you kinda realise people are happy for you because it's new and different, not because they're actually interested.
But some people are.
Some people want to know what it's like.
But I don't know who you are, so it's easier to shove a blog at you and ask you to read it, if you care. If you really truly care about the passion stirring in the hearts of 1,000 young men and women around the world.
OYAN. One Year Adventure Novel.
It's made up of fans, groupies, ultra-conservative Christians, legalists (I was one!), liberal Christians...waaaay liberal. (I love you guys! ;))
Some people found home. Life. Love. Acceptance. Trust.
Some people built walls and hit the wrong people when trying to take them down.
I found my best friends through OYAN. I met best friends who betrayed me and who I betrayed in OYAN.
I met the guy I fell in love with through OYAN. I met three of the five guys who I fell with and who fell with me, through OYAN.
OYAN is a combination of good and bad. It is not perfect. Because we are not.
Neither is OYAN exclusive. We make it so. God's love is unconditional. So should we be. And I know we find it hard.
But we understand each other and we bond more than most. Because we have a common cause - a common interest. We write. And we fangirl/fanboy out together. And WE HAVE A CHANCE - more of a chance than ANY OTHER CHURCH OUT THERE - because we're a bunch of crazy kids GOD has brought together, and we KNOW WHAT UNCONDITIONAL LOVE IS.
Because we've seen it. And it's been lived to us. And it lives in us.
He lives in us.
So I'm tired of trying to explain this. And it's so much easier just to shove a link at someone. How do you explain what 500+ kids full of writerliness, craziness and God's love are like to a world that hears only, "Writing conference"?
It's anything but. Their reaction is a polite smile and an "oh-you're-just-obsessed-with-American-stuff" look.
Here, in the words of Julia Duke, is that explained - the way that is to us:
"That moment when you're chatting with someone who you just don't know how to express alllllllll your feels to. All of them. And meanwhile you're going absolutely nuts inside and trying to hold it all in. And you just want to be all like "ASFLKJWOIDLKJFLKJSLKJDLJKLKJF I HAD THE BEST DAY AND THE BEST NIGHT EVER" but you can't. Because they won't get you. They won't understand, they'll just be like, "That'sniceIdon'treallycare."
Please tell me I'm not the only one. =_="
No, Julia, you aren't. :)
So guys. If you REALLY want to know what OYAN is like. Read this blog.
It's made of twenty-eight posts from OYAN attendees and non-attendees to this year's Summer Workshop.
This is what OYAN means to these people, guys.
This is Home.
~Sian Garner-Jones/Queen Jane by God's Grace
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